Deceit and Illusions of Time
by Azshiri
Summary: Before Sargeras fell, before the Titans forged Azeroth, and before the Burning Legion was even a spark, the Eredar inhabited Argus, a city built on magic and mystery. What happened to them and their home? And why?


_**Disclaimer(s): **I do not own World of Warcraft, Warcraft, or anything associated with it such as location. Warcraft belongs to Blizzard Entertainment. NOT ME._

_Also, there is not an actual label for either race or main characters in this story, which are the Eredar and Kil'jaeden. So the current labels are a bit vague so that people can find it if they are looking for something similar. This story also connects to my story **Sands of Darkness**, though the setting is several thousands of years before and begins with a different group. **Deceit and Illusions of Time, **and **Sands of Darkness **are a part of my series, **Aspects of Argus.**__ It is an extremely long chain of events covering a lot of lore and has a bunch of loopholes to figure out. However, in the series, I hope to explain what I think went wrong with the Eredar, whether or not there are other dragonflights, and the origins of the Stormrage twins and some history behind the Kal'dorei. This will also cover some things about the Orcs and The Draenai, but not immediately!_

_Without further ado, here is the intro to **Deceit and Illusions of Time.**  
_

She had been taught what not to do. She knew the difference between right and wrong. She knew how to face consequences—hell, she knew that when she did something wrong, it showed discipline and responsibility to be honest and accept the punishment. She knew from the moment she turned eight that the last thing you ever did when you made a mistake was to run from it.

And so she ran like there was no tomorrow when finally faced with the choice of owning what she had done. It was the first time she'd run though. The first time! It was also the first time she had leveled a town by opening a portal, boiled three hundred and twenty two people alive from the inside out, destroyed four ancient relics of her people, and shut said portal so abruptly that the magical energies released set everything on fire.

The mana residue was pretty, though. It glimmered and sparkled and caught the spectrum of light so gently it had to be a positive side-effect. Unless someone got within thirty yards of it. Then it began to explode, almost as if it were afraid that someone would try and steal its beauty. The severed limbs, pestilent sores bubbling up on small children, and the general population dropping dead at any given moment served as a warning for those who even dared think the remainder of Mac'aree was pretty.

In her mind, she justified her actions. She had been scared when the spell began, angry at being challenged, and sapped of energy when her magic was taken advantage of. She had stopped the spell from consuming more than its direct area of impact, and she had reversed the suction of the portal. Being terrified that she'd make the damage worse, that she'd done more damage than could be repaired, she ran.

And her hooves knew the dirt, rocks, grass, roots, and briars perfectly. Fifteen years of mischief and striving to be strong made her adventurous. She explored the areas around her home often. It made her fleeing more effective. She knew where to run—she did not, however, know where she was headed. All she knew is that she was heading to whatever destination rapidly.

But she was slowing down. Drastically.

The cause of her slowing was no surprise. Rather, the person behind the cause of her slowing was no surprise. The fact that she hadn't given any hint to the fact that he'd chase her down was irritating.

"Lyla Ul'diamos! Why the hells are you running?" he spat. His words were like fire searing through the temporary ice shield she'd forged over her heart. She couldn't say why she was running. The only reason she had was fear, if that. Honestly, Lyla wasn't sure why she'd chosen to run as opposed to stay and mend what had been done.

"I don't know, but let me go Kil'jaeden! Let me go!"

"No! What did you do! What blew up! Why'd you run! Did you do it on purpose?" he growled, circling around in front of her and clutching her chin in his palm. She jerked her head away only to have it snatched back, his rich, gold eyes peering into her own golden orbs.

"I destroyed the city of Mac'aree. Or did you miss that?" she hissed, receiving two slaps across her face; one for each cheek.

"Explain why or I'll save the Triumverate a trial."

Lyla sighed heavily, biting her tongue between her teeth a moment to calm herself. To be emotional and impulsive now would be certain death. Kil'jaeden was her friend, her companion, and before this incident, it had been predicted they would be mates. Had she been anyone else—excluding Archimonde and Velen—the slowing spell would have eaten her legs off.

"Gylaxin challenged my position and right to be eligible for rites of the Triune. He made several jeers at how weak I was, but I held my tongue. Until he told me I couldn't stabilize a portal with sheer life energy. He made it official then—even if he was of earned rank, I had to accept the formal challenge, Kil'ngo. I accepted. And I thought he would use his typical spellwork…he started with the typical layout. Shadowmancy, Ice formation, then I set my layer of Lifebinding, and then he pulled Necromancy on top of it. I jerked my own layout from the mix as the vacuum began to open…he said something about "Sargeras' will be done' and died cackling. And then…"

"You fled in terror, as most children would do," an older, wiser voice stated. Kil'jaeden and Lyla both bowed in acknowledgement of the Triumverate Elders standing in front of them. An awkward, painful silence bristled the hairs on the back of Lyla's neck as Elder Uldin—her father—approached her.

"Al'bada, I am really—"

The back of his hand crashed across her cheek, his brow narrowed and his eyes fierce. "You are no longer any child of mine."

"Uldin, if your emotions are going to impair your judgment, I ask you step down," the second Elder whispered softly. His name was Elder Jess'arin, and he was the oldest of the three. So old, in fact, that his eyes glowed silver as opposed to gold or green.

"I will stand back for now. My honor has been gravely insulted…but it is foolish of me to place my entire reputation on any one person. She is still a child…" Uldin mumbled after biting his own tongue a moment in reflection.

The third Elder, Agarron, placed his palm gently on Lyla's temple, extracting a small blue thread that quickly turned into a holographic reenactment of the events that had led the portal to such a destructive ending. The figures interacted just as she had said, Gylaxin's model taunting her, pushing her, feeling her in places no young, unmarried girl should be touched. And her own model tried to avoid the conversation politely, then boldly, then by pushing back and attempting to get the attention of passersby. After several moment of failing, she finally snapped on Gylaxin, and the challenge began.

The Elder's faces softened towards her, but hardened towards the dark blotches that surrounded the young man. His power was enormous, and he had almost outsmarted one of the brightest members of the Eredar. Unfortunate for him, she caught on and his body was shredded in the suction of the broken portal.

"I think it fair to say, Tri'kyin, that she is not guilty for the initial actions, and that putting her to death or exiling her is too harsh a punishment," Jess'arin stated calmly. The other two nodded, then all eyes turned to Lyla.

Agarron spoke next. "Her magic is to be restored to its full form. However, I think it would be error to allow her to maintain all her rights as they stand right now. She ran away like a true coward when faced with a choice that could very well be in her future. I say we strip her of her name, heritage, status, ability to try to become a member of the Triune succeeding us, and force her to go onto a pilgrimage as all non-nobles do. We will assign her a new name, a mate, and a master for her apprenticeship. She will never be allowed to attain the title of master."

"No…she will not lose her heritage. I speak both as her father and as an Elder. If her heritage is taken away, no one, not even one appointed to her, would take her in and care for her as he should. There is nothing to gain from toting around a chained mule, so to speak," Uldin stated.

"Agreed. The rest, however, still stands. Lyla Ul'diamos is no more," Jess'arin said, placing his index finger on her lips. A large rune appeared on her forehead, flickering red and white. Her eyes paled and small, black tears began to stream down her face.

"Who do we choose to take her, then?"

"The young man trying to blend in with the foliage. Kil'jaeden. Or, to be accurate, Kil'jaedenar Uvrilanae Ishtakara. It could serve as a blended punishment, as he doubted our abilities, or thought too highly of his own to assist with the damage done in Mac'aree," Uldin replied. He knew how his daughter felt about Kil'jaeden, and knew the feelings to be mutual. Though he had just wished her dead, his heart softened when the situation came into a better light. She had not attacked the city. She ran out of fear and confusion, something most teenage girls would do had they assisted in blowing up a town square. And she wasn't closing off her emotions and making the situation right in her mind. Instead, she was crying, upset about what she had done, her eyes oozing with regret and sorrow.

"If he thinks himself good enough to catch and discipline a rogue girl, by all means, he should be her Master. It is agreed."

Kil'jaeden nodded slowly, insulted and humbled by the Triumverate's seemingly unending knowledge and power. He knew that one day he would hold one of their seats. And he knew they knew, which is why they were harder on him than they were most others. Kil'jaeden also knew he was strong, capable, and though a bit impulsive and vengeful, an excellent sorcerer and skilled strategist. Unfortunately, it made his head swell more than desirable. His confidence often strode into arrogance, blinding him from threats that could be dealt with easily had he kept his cool. He often overstepped his bounds as well, trying to make himself more important than he was, or trying to show off to impress the older population.

Despite his cocky attitude, one thing that could be said positively about Kil'jaeden was his ability to learn. And not only on the scholarly level. Experience taught him just as much books, and he listened intently to advice and stories given by those with more experience. He learned when he could say what, why to say what he did, and when to hold his tongue completely. Now was one of those times.

Elder Uldin placed his forefinger on the rune emanating from his youngest daughter's brow and let out a slow breath. He looked at her with a sad pity, wishing he could change time and stop the event from occurring. And he knew that even if he did, it would not benefit her or the Eredar as a whole. Fifteen was still a child, sure, but the decisions she made now would forever affect her future. Under his broken smile hid a small flicker of hope. Even though the Triumverate had made this decree on her, the next three could change her fate. The next three prophesied to take the Triune as their own were Kil'jaeden, Archimonde, and Velen, the three boys of which Lyla had been raised with. If she learned from her mistake now, she could earn her way back into a position of power, even if it wasn't the highest power.

Tracing over the rune with his finger and whispering a small spell, Uldin then glistened gold. His eyes locked with hers, and a bright flash of light bound the two for a moment. Then he spoke, softly, painfully, and sadly.

"Lyla Ul'diamos is no more, and you are no longer the blossom of time. You are now Zaeldra Ul'diamos, the flower who ran from her budding."

Even with the hope that hid deep in his heart, Uldin knew he'd never be able to call his daughter by her name again and that he had personally killed her future. Watching her blink, then turn and run away with tears chasing her, then quickly followed by Kil'jaeden, he muttered a small prayer that Zaeldra's life would long outlast him, and eventually, that she would forgive him.


End file.
